


Desideration

by sakkajagga



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: AU, DMC-related violence, Fluff, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:35:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25053997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakkajagga/pseuds/sakkajagga
Summary: While things in life are never structured, Nero finally feels like he at least has a grip on the goings-on around him.  You and Nero make a devastating devil hunting pair, but he still can't drop old habits of wanting to protect you and eliminate all threats so there's no chance of you being in danger.  That's exactly the cause of the confusing trouble he finds himself in now after a particularly slippery demon shows up, and shatters that idea of ever thinking he was in control of something as unpredictable as life.
Relationships: Nero (Devil May Cry)/Reader, Nero (Devil May Cry)/You
Comments: 43
Kudos: 81





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This would've been 2000x easier to write if it wasn't in 2nd person, but i really wanted to write this so here we are  
> i hope it's not too dumb even if it becomes predictable (`:

“Get down!!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you hit the ground chest first and just in time for a rush of heat to pass over you. The flaming chunk of building careens passed Nero, who has no trouble getting out of the way; crashing into the far-off stone wall. Bits of rubble and marble rain down from the eruption as you push yourself up, Nero already by your side.

“You all right?” he asks, eyes trained on the seething demon; hand out to you in offering.

“Of course,” you sigh, logging the new tears to your clothes as you release his hand to dust yourself off. Any more damage and these pants wouldn’t be worth salvaging. Watching him drive the tip of Red Queen into the ground before revving it reminds you, “Lost my sword, though.”

“All right then...hang back.”

“Wha--” It shouldn’t have surprised you, Nero always did hate you endangering yourself; always telling you to stay back and protect Kyrie and anyone else in need while he and Credo charged forward in the days of The Order; always trying to rush in first and finish off the demons before you had the chance to jump in; always arguing with you when you volunteered for solo missions, no matter how many times you reminded him that you too had been considered Elite for a reason. Normally you brushed it off, knowing his temper flared due to his overwhelming concern and need to protect those he cares about, but this particular demon was no laughing matter. “Don’t be ridiculous!! Just stay back and wait for Nico--”

“No time,” Nero flexes his right hand, familiar blue light patterning his arm. “The longer we wait, the more strength it gains. Gotta take it out while it’s still sluggish!”

“No, wait!!” You reach out to grab hold of him, but naturally, he’s too fast and already halfway to closing the distance. With no other choice, you resolve to quickly find your sword; cursing yourself for not bringing any backup weapons along.

The fact that Nero seemed to be having some difficulty reading the demon’s movements was a huge red flag. So much so that you paused searching to observe. The advantage of being so far away allowed you to watch everything.

Nero would swing his sword, beginning to set himself up to continue the offensive before suddenly having to stop and readjust to properly attack the demon again; without the giant beast seeming to have to make much of an effort to get away each time. It happened again and again until you realized, “Nero!!” He doesn’t respond back, but you take the chance that he can hear you over the roaring and the rumbling, “Nero, it can pause time!!”

“Well _that’s_ fair--” he shouts back, interrupted by the need to roll out of the way of a massive clawed hand trying to flatten him.

Your mind is already reeling, trying to formulate a plan to either stop it from using its power or to use it against the demon. That would require teaming up on it, which would also require you to find your damn sword!

Giving him that bit of knowledge seemed to be helping at least. Nero now knew to fake the demon out, able to double step and keep up with it in most cases. The thing shrieked when the blade of Red Queen ran across its face--almost like it hadn’t expected it; just like Nero hadn’t expected its back leg to be able to whip forward and grab him before flinging him away in retaliation.

Nero takes it in stride, flipping in the air to right his fall and lands hard on his feet. The momentum slides him, of course, but he’s at least not injured from it though is still no closer to you. He stands tall again, shoulders his sword, and pauses just as he begins walking forward before stooping over and pulling on something. With a quick jerk, he frees it from the rubble; holding up your Durandal like a prize.

“Took you long enough!” you shout, “I have a plan!”

“Already??”

“This thing always waits one minute between using its little trick. I’m gonna force it to pause, then you’ll be able to keep the pressure on and wail on it!”

“What--no! I’ll do it!!”

“You waste half the time getting back to it when it jumps!!” Nero starts to argue with you again, so to curb his disagreement, you take off at a full sprint towards the demon. Of course, it sees you coming, preemptively swatting at you to shred you with its talons. The ground erupts upward from the force, allowing you to use it to throw yourself out of the way. Without pause, you run back to it, holding your hand up high, waiting only a few seconds until you hear the sound of metal slicing through the air before closing your fingers around the hilt of your sword in perfect timing. Your feet leave the ground, body moving in a spin for added strength to your swing, as your blade arches down across the demon’s side.

It howls, face swinging around, and meaning to snap its jaws around you. Luckily it’s as slow as it is big and backing off enough to give yourself clearance to avoid being chomped in half is a simple backflip before you’re already charging in again to force it to pause time to try to gain the advantage. A loud shout precedes your leap into the air, sword poised overhead to deal what would have been a hard hit had it not been for the pesky ground being there instead.

Experiencing that time jump was a lot different than observing it.

Before you can even shout at Nero, he’s already on the demon. You wait, counting the seconds in your head, ready to spring back in. _...48...49...50_ \--“Switch!!” He jumps away and you move in to force it to waste its ability on you and allow Nero to read its movements enough to close the sudden distance without hesitation. The longer this carries on, the more tired the demon becomes but its overly thick hide is helping it withstand your combined barrage.

Its loud breaths are hard and labored. Getting hit at this point would almost seem like it was on purpose, but your eyes seem to be playing tricks on you as you try to stay focused; trying to keep time in your mind. Was the thing glowing?

The moment you switch places with Nero, the demon roars, and energy crackles around its writhing body. It forces you back, and keeps you away, using the energy circulating around it like a wind tunnel. Clearly it was trying to save itself to make an escape.

“Nero!!” He doesn’t respond vocally, but you can see that he already understands what you’re thinking--it’s pushing you both back in pure defense. Nero shouts, pushing harder; Red Queen begins making leeway.

The demon roars again, its energy surging wildly.

You lose your footing and in that split second, you’re thrown back. It takes every ounce of your willpower to keep a death grip on the hilt of your sword, even as you roll and tumble over yourself--and the Durandal--knowing that losing it again could be the costly factor in killing this demon or allowing its escape. Unfortunately, that iron will cost you a few slices here and there, but that was the least of your concerns. In the few seconds it takes to regain the air that had been knocked from your lungs, the entire atmosphere shifted.

The demon’s cry echoes, seeming as if it’s vibrating the very air. The energy sparks, abruptly reversing, and even from the incredible distance you’d been knocked away, you can feel the change in current. The air around you is flowing towards the demon.

And there, directly in front of it, Nero’s boots skid a few inches closer, as he tries pulling away to avoid getting drawn into what was now an obvious trap. He drives the tip of Red Queen into the ground and revs the engine. You can already tell what he’s thinking.

“Nero!! Don’t!!!”

Naturally, he doesn’t listen, spurred on by his adamant need to protect you and launches himself forward; using that powerful pull to his advantage to drive his sword directly into the demon’s torso as far as the blade will go.

The sound it releases is too ear-shattering to even comprehend, but that’s not what’s scaring you. From your point of view, you can see it’s not only the wind flowing into the demon but energy as well. It’s as if the thing was sucking in the life force of the living things around it and in your mind, the only thing a gathering of concentrated energy led to was an explosion.

By the time you’re back on your feet and rushing forward, you get the strange sensation of the world slowing down. Your mind is working, reeling at a ridiculous speed, but your body feels heavy, movements just not keeping up with what you want them to do.

It feels hard to breathe. It takes an eternity to put one foot in front of the other. Nero’s fist rears back at an agonizingly slow rate. The demon’s glowing body brightens.

“Nero--” Your voice catches in the vacuum and is stolen.

It’s so bright. There’s no sound.

A blinding white light floods your vision.

The world suddenly explodes back to life; your ears ring painfully; back on the ground with no recollection of being knocked down again. The only reason you can tell you’re bleeding is the blood that rolls down the sides of your face, dripping from your chin and onto the broken ground as you haul your aching body up first to your knees. With swimming vision, you sway on all fours, coughing to rid your lungs of dust and weakly call for a wellness check, “Nero…” Your voice sounds so distant, even to your own ears, and you have to wonder if you’re being loud enough to be heard. “Nero…!” With no response still, you slowly lift your head and the dizziness worsens. Nausea floods your senses--“Nero?”

Before you is a vast expanse of scorched and cracked earth, sans the demon. You shake your head to clear it, fighting down the next wave of nausea before starting with the realization that the demon’s entire body is gone without a trace.

And so is Nero.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you'll start to see why i initially said this thing would've been easier to write if it wasn't in 2nd person  
> sorry if the perspective gets a little confusing; it's written in 2nd, but also sort of in 3rd at the same time??  
> ._.

The first thing he can note is feeling warm. There’s a comfortable weight draped over him and a delightful softness pillowing his neck and head. _Bed_ , he realizes. He’s in bed but his body still aches; head pounding as he lifts a hand to his forehead, feeling a bandage wrapped around it. He distantly wonders what the hell happened just as the memory hits him like a freight train.

_The demon!!_

Nero jerks up in a panic-- _what happened to the demon, was it killed, did it get away after all??_

In his rush and confusion, he ends up ridiculously tangling himself up and tumbles right out of bed and into a hysteric heap on the floor. He’s still fighting the blanket off his legs--which is infinitely harder than he feels it should be, but his body is in absolute agony--when a door swings open.

“Nero??”

God he’s so glad to hear your voice, so glad you’re okay. You’ve barely made it three steps into the room before he’s scrambling up to his feet, eyes wild and wide as he grabs you by the shoulders, “What happened!? Did the demon get away? Are you all right!?”

You blink. Once, then twice, and once more again. “Uh…”

He gives you a little shake and repeats himself desperately.

Eyeing the bandage wrapping around his head before gently reaching up to feel if that knot had gone down yet, you’re unsurprised to find the goose egg beneath the gauze still very prominent. “Maybe you should lay back down…”

“No, Y/N!” he practically pleads, “Did we stop the demon!?”

Poor thing… Your hand slips down the side of his face, holding onto his neck. “Guess you hit your head harder than I thought…” you say as gently as you can manage, hoping that would trigger the memory of getting injured and calm him down. “Whatever nightmare you had is over...everything’s fine.”

“N-nightmare…?” Nero’s face is a myriad of emotions, none of them positive. “No...no, Y/N, listen--” His grip on your shoulders tighten, “Don’t you remember!? We were holding it off, waiting for Nico to bring supplies! The damn thing, it--it… It exploded! Or something… But I can’t...I can’t remember anything after that… It exploded and the next thing I know I’m waking up…” He looks a little crazed through all that rambling--it’s worrying, to be honest--but his voice trails off as he surveys the room as if just realizing where he is. “Wait...where are we?”

Maybe not.

Nero’s hands fall from your shoulders as he turns and looks around. His eyes dart all around the sterile room, the monochromatic greys and cold floor doing nothing to settle his racing mind.

“The hospital,” you say for good measure, not willing to leave it to chance after that rant he’d just gone on. “I’ll go get a nurse--”

Nero’s hand clamps down on your arm, “What happened?”

You tried not to frown, you really did. But you can see the unhappy expression made it out from his reaction alone. “You really can’t remember?”

Nero shakes his head numbly.

You really don’t like that his short-term memory seems to be completely screwed up. “The motorcycle? It revved up way faster than you expected and slung you into the tree…” His blank expression tells you he has no idea what you’re talking about. “‘Borrowed’,” he especially appreciated the air quotes, “your uncle’s bike? We were going to race, but no one knew he actually souped the thing up??”

Nero’s face pales.

“Don’t worry, the bike is mostly fine. I had Nico check it out and the only thing actually wrong is cosmetic.” You don’t stop him from practically wobbling back over to the bed, watching him sit heavily with a bounce and a resounding creak. “Should I call Kyrie? She’s got a much better bedside manner than I do,” you try joking.

But his response is just a flat, “No…”

“How ‘bout the doctor, since you’re coherent now, and clearly have some kind of memory loss.”

“No.”

Well, at least his stubborn personality was still intact. With a sigh, you join him, sitting there in silence for a good while until finally leaning your elbows on your knees. “You...you really scared me this time, Nero…” you murmur, half hoping he doesn’t even hear you. Feeling him looking at you confirms it, though.

“Sorry…” he sounds a bit like a kid not knowing how else to respond.

“I’m serious.” You sit up, turning to look at him and fixing him with a watery stare, “This isn’t like the time you nearly destroyed your arm.”

His gaze drops down instinctively to his right arm, grabbing hold of his forearm tightly over the hairline scar indicating where it had initially been severed. Where not even his regenerative properties could fully erase the reminder.

“You can live without an arm, but not without your head!” You figure he’s recalling that injury, and that he’s also remembering the following surgery that was a fifty-fifty shot on saving his arm or losing it as he flexes his fist open and close a few times. “You’re lucky, you always have been. But that luck can’t keep saving you forever…”

“Sorry,” he whispers again, rather breathlessly.

“No, I’m--” you sigh, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be unloading on you right now…”

“Sorry to worry you,” he insists, right hand taking one of yours.

“Don’t you puppy-dog-eye me…”

“Why? Is it working?”

You smack his chest, playfully, with your free hand, “Seriously...you’re such a hassle…” Nero laughs, the sound soft and quiet; it gives you hope that he’s already starting to feel normal again. “I’m…” You turn away, if only to hide your expression, “I’m glad you’re okay.” You feel his hand tighten over yours before you suddenly stand, “I’m gonna go get the doctor--and no ‘buts!’” Without waiting for his rebuttal, you rush out the room.

As soon as he’s alone again, Nero’s eyes glaze over, panicking internally and trying to figure out just what the living hell is going on here. Eventually, he wanders into the bathroom, staring at himself in the mirror. Nero leans in on his arms, hands bracing the cold sink; once again observing that scar along his forearm in his reflection. He clenches his fists, tenses up his body, and invokes his Devil Trigger; feeling the heat stirring inside him. His muscles ache and shift as if straining against some invisible force that is keeping his energy simmering just beneath the surface. Staring at his, unremarkably, unchanged face, Nero isn’t sure if he’s surprised or not to find that there seems to be something otherworldly constricting him. As if it’s purposefully preventing him from tapping into his true power and making him appear fully human.

‘ _Dreaming,’_ he decides, _‘I must be dreaming.’_ Nero pinches his face. It hurts, but nothing changes. He tries his arm. Again, just a sharp pain and no sudden jolting awake. His fingertips drum against the sink.

A trick of the demon’s? Somehow stuck him in an illusory world that is meant to drive him slowly mad? If that was the case, he merely had to wait it out; knowing in the actual reality, it wouldn’t be long before he was getting pulled out of this one. The real you would find him and snap him out of this.

Though, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit to being quite curious about everything in this illusion. So far, the demon had gotten right his lover and a mention of Kyrie and Nico. It made him want to explore the rest of this bizarro dream world until you found a way to break him out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a bit of world-building--CH IV to follow very soon

You watch the rise and fall of Nero’s chest absently. Finally getting him to sleep felt like nothing short of a miracle, and while you’re glad he’s resting, you’re mostly glad he’s not awake to witness the still-evident worry on your face. Seeing him laid up in that hospital bed, unresponsive, was haunting. Ever since you’ve known him, Nero’s always had that devil-may-care confidence to scrape by any situation with minimal error and pain. Your collective small friend group often joked that he housed the luck of the devil; always seeming nearly invincible even in the face of dire injury.

His arm had been the prime example of a much-needed wake-up call.

Some nights, you swore you could still smell the blood and you were fairly sure that bloodstain still existed to this very day in that old garage. The volume of his agonized scream still rang in your ears on bad nights and sometimes it was all you could do to cling to him and remind yourself that he made it through; arm, and all.

Unable to sleep, you putz around as quietly as you can manage until you’re suddenly sitting up with a gasp at the kitchen table when you feel something drape over your back.

“Jesus chr--” Nico jerks away, hand going over her heart, “You tryna give me a heart attack!?”

“Wh--what time is...how did you get in??”

“Left the door unlocked, genius. Thought that meant you were up.”

You rub your eyes, slouching back down into your seat, grumbling tiredly, and not bothering to pick up the jacket you’d knocked to the floor.

“Where’s Crotch Rocket? Still ‘sleep?”

You nod, mumbling something resembling an affirmative answer before slumping back over on the table.

“S’already nine-thirty,” Nico announces, moving over to the cupboards and rummaging. You can hear the clicking of ceramic and the very distinct noises of her fiddling with the coffeemaker. The background noise somehow lulls you back to sleep until she wakes you up again, bumping your head with a mug and taking a seat across from you. You mutter your thanks and take a sip, unsurprised to find it almost perfect. “His memory any better?”

“I don't know...he pretty much went right to sleep when we got home.” There’s no way for Nico to know that was a lie. It was a few hours of mild arguing to try to get him to sleep before you finally just let him wander around restlessly. You assumed he was worried about something, but the more you watched him as he meandered to and fro to observe various things around the house--decor, random things placed here and there, and the way he lingered on photos as if entranced--and the more you listened to him try to carefully speak...the more you felt something was off. Almost like he was...not Nero. But you knew how crazy that would sound, and it wasn’t like that head injury wouldn’t be to blame. Still, you just couldn’t shake the feeling there was something fundamentally different. “The doctor said he was fine and that his memory should clear up after a while…”

“Probably for the best,” her voice follows the thud of her mug on the table, “I’m sure he just needed to sleep it off, like always.”

“Yeah…” The real test would be Kyrie. If she noticed something off, then you would know you’re not just imagining things. “Kyrie and the others are coming by at some point. Are you hanging out?”

“Yeah, I’ll stick around for a while.” It was obvious she was worried too, but just unwilling to admit it.

That feeling never really subsided. Even as you stood back to watch him and Kyrie interact without a single red flag, you couldn’t shake that nagging feeling. Seeing the confusion flash over his face when the others came to check on him, however, cemented it in your mind. So he could clearly remember you, Kyrie, Credo, and Nico. But the other friends seemed to unnerve him--you noted it was the exact reaction he usually had to strangers.

“Kyrie,” you spoke quietly once you were able to pull her away from the group, “does Nero seem different to you?”

“What do you mean?” When you struggle to answer that, she clarifies, “‘Different’ how?”

“I don’t know how to explain it exactly. It just seems like something’s...off.” You didn’t want to bring up that sort of frightening episode he’d had when initially waking up. That’d be enough to concern anyone.

Even her smile that usually settled all worry and negative feelings couldn’t appease this uneasy feeling of apprehension that something unseen was happening. “I think he’s been through a lot, lately. And I think that some real rest would do him some good.”

You nod in full agreement, “I’ve already called his boss to let him know the situation. So at least the next week or so, I hope I can just get him to relax…”

“That’ll be great.” Her smile still brightens your mood, at least; conversation partially interrupted to look back towards the group when hearing Nero raise his voice.

Nero flicks his hand at one of the guys--none of whom he’d asked names for as to not come across suspicious, “Don’t call my uncle ‘hot’!”

The one he’s fussing at laughs, running a hand through his already pushed back hair, green eyes glinting mischievously, “And how can you blame me? Have you _seen_ your uncle??” Nero was almost certain he was doing it on purpose, but for all he knew, this guy was one hundred percent serious.

“Too bad my mom would kick your ass,” the lone girl of this bunch chimes in. Nero only recognizes her thanks to some of the photos framed around the house; having committed to memory her face as well as a rather beautifully distinguished woman sitting with Dante. He surmised the two were together and this girl had to have been the offspring--his cousin, if so. That pale hair that so matched his, Dante’s, and Vergil’s only seemed to confirm that sentiment. Those two bicker playfully on the opposite side of the couch, and Nero’s eyes naturally move to the more quiet “friend.” He hasn’t said too much the whole time, aside from first entering and exchanging greetings with you and Kyrie before moving onto him and expressing his relief that he wasn’t irreparably injured. His face was another he hadn’t seen before noticing him in pictures as well.

As if feeling Nero’s unwavering stare, he looks over from the bickering pair, dark eyes holding his for a long moment before a smile crooks the right corner of his mouth. With what looks like an unconscious habit, he flicks his equally dark bangs out of his face. “You okay?”

Nero nods, taking a moment to read his face; noting the absolutely fond familiarity the guy is looking at him with. The obvious concern he’s trying to hide behind relaxed shoulders. He’d noticed the others looking at him the same way earlier as well. The same look you had given him too.

Something clenches tight in Nero’s chest, recognizing the awkward feeling of realizing he was in the midst of people who truly cared about him and just how bizarre it seemed. Back in reality, it was usually only you and Kyrie making him feel such a way.

“Loosen your ponytail,” Nero waves a hand dismissively at him, but raises his tone to speak to everyone, “you guys are acting like I was dying.”

Beside you, Kyrie laughs softly, murmuring how amusing she found the fact that Nero still can’t handle people caring about him even after all this time. You hum, only half listening, as you watch the careful way he interacts with the others.

Eventually, the friend group trickles out. Nero watches you wave at the straggler--dark-eyed-ponytail-kid Nero secretly dubbed him--before closing you both inside once more. When you turn away from the door, you find Nero just watching you; an amused look on his face.

“What?”

“He’s got such a huge crush on you,” he chuckles with a growing smirk, indicating with his chin that he meant the friend you’d just bid farewell to.

Your brows lift for a moment, finding the statement strangely normal for all the other oddities you’ve been making a mental list of, before rolling your eyes. “Not this again…” It only takes you a few steps to reach him, and promptly step around him.

Nero follows along, still watching you intently. To you, he just seems to be waiting for more words, but he’s quietly calculating the noticeable differences between the dream-you and the real-you. He can’t help but wonder just how similar each version actually is; sliding onto a stool at the counter, chin propped up on his fist, “Know what I’ve been thinking about?”

“About how you should apologize to Dante for nearly wrecking his bike?” you retort without pausing putting glasses into the sink to wash them.

He lets that slide in favor of his own snarky reply. “Do you remember…” he pauses purposefully, letting the tension build, “that time you got so drunk…” He pauses again, grin growing wider the second he sees you begin to bristle.

You turn, pointing the bottle of detergent in his direction as a warning. Nero looks marvelously pleased with himself, waiting till you’re turning back to the sink before speaking again.

“Do you still even have those heels?” He dodges the wet sponge launched at his head with great ease and laughs loudly; deciding that there are perhaps no differences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the friends/unfamiliar faces (and a very specific line towards the reader hehe) are references towards some good friends', and my, OCs


	4. Chapter 4

He finds himself wondering a lot about the passage of time. So far, if he’s counted correctly, Nero has already spent nearly a month in this illusion; suspecting time is seemingly flying by him to make him comfortable enough to drop his guard. When in reality it’s probably only been an hour or just a few minutes.

Whatever the case, it’s given him a lot of time to observe everyone around him; their similarities, their differences, as well as learning about the complete and utter nonexistent things and people. He ponders if he’ll ever miss them when he wakes up--if he’ll even remember them.

It’s given him time to actually...enjoy being with everyone, as guilty as he feels admitting it, even if just to himself. Late nights of tangled limbs are never unexpectedly rushed here. Lazy mornings are just that, with no dangerous surprises. There isn’t a phantom tingle in his arm whenever he looks at Vergil and his father has no problem answering questions about his deceased mother. Dante isn’t surviving on cold pizza that is meant to last him for weeks on end and the brothers can actually interact without a sword ramming through someone’s chest.

You catch Nero just staring down on his spot on the garage floor, still sitting there with an old photo album spread open over his crossed legs; recognizing that distant expression he’s had quite often lately. He doesn’t even seem to realize that you’ve walked over until you’re gently kicking his boot, “We’re supposed to be clearing the junk out.”

“Right,” he still sounds a little dazed, “just came across this and…”

Your eyes drop to the album, not surprised to find him paused on the pages containing pictures of him as a kid. Lowering down next to him, you lean on his shoulder to get a better look. Nero shifts the album over to aid in that as well. “Look how chubby your cheeks were!” you laugh, pointing to a particular photo of Nero as a toddler.

“Be quiet,” he huffs, turning the page only to find another one just as similar. He’s a little older, holding a screaming baby--that he figures is his cousin--young face scrunched up in dismay. He turns two pages this time, opening the album to a picture of him, Credo, and Kyrie. They’re all standing in a line with matching uniforms; a first day of school, maybe. On the following page, photos of you start appearing, as well as the other ‘friends’. It’s clear from everyone’s faces and builds that the age group is still barely adolescent, but he can’t help but focus on how baby-ish everyone still looks at that age to him now. He continues leafing through the pages, using it to piece together a history he is apparently supposed to already know. The further he gets, the more personal the images become.

A pretty impressively artistic shot of the orange and pink horizon, his dark silhouette against it, overlooking the city. You, half-dressed and mostly disheveled, trying to hide a little smile and pretend to not notice your picture being taken while making breakfast. One of him on his back, looking half satisfied-half embarrassed; angled in such a way that he can tell you were leaning over him when you took the photo.

From your resting place on his shoulder, you can’t see the deep contemplative look on his face. You can’t see the gears turning in his mind. To you, Nero has come full-circle back to his old self; making you feel rather silly for ever thinking there was some, deep, underlying anomaly wrong with him. Of course he was acting strange at the time--head injuries were notorious for causing all sorts of disparities.

Neither can you tell that he’s thinking just how much happier you look. How happy he seems far removed from demons and devil hunting, and cultish cities, hell-trees and hell-gates. He’s heard you express hints towards hard times, of course, but comparatively, Nero can’t help but find himself thinking just how...preferable it all seemed. Knowing what sort of life would await him, Nero almost felt as if he wouldn’t actually mind just sleeping for eternity in the demon’s illusion.

Guilt floods him immediately and he closes the photo album with a quiet sigh, “All right, all right, break time’s over.”

“Look who’s talking,” you grumble at him, having just finally started getting comfortable before he decided to get up.

Nero passes the album between his hands, preparing to put it in the non-junk section and pauses when a picture falls out. It flutters to the floor face down and before you can scoop it up to slip it back between the pages, he’s already leaned down and turned it over. You give it a glance, seeing it’s just a simple sneaky polaroid of you sleeping.

He freezes in place, clutching it in his hand. You can’t see it, but to him, the image is anything but a cheekily snapped photo. Nero sees blood and torn clothes; hears the crash of thunder and the howls of demons.

He stands there for what isn’t a normal amount of time, surely he can’t think a picture of you sleeping is that interesting. “Nero?” You reach out and put a hand on his shoulder, “Are you all right?”

Nero jolts unexpectedly, the look he gives you is wild as the photo album hits the floor with a dull thud, watching your lips move. You can see that he’s reading them as you speak, but that terrified look in his eyes tells you he’s not hearing it.

Though he can clearly see your lips form the words: ‘Nero, are you okay? What’s wrong?’ what he hears is a distressed and horrified: _‘Nero!! You’re okay--I’ve got you!!’_

His arms fold around you suddenly, pulling you against him and squeezing so tightly it borders painful. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he whispers fiercely, “Just hold on, I’ll wake up, I promise!”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cue the twilight zone music

The fear that grips you as your voice echoes against the now-barren patch of earth is immeasurable. Your body feels frigid with the realization that Nero has seemingly disappeared along with the demon--and how the hell could something _that_ big just disappear without a trace anyway!? You try calling to him again, stumbling to your feet and wiping the blood away from your face as it rushes from your hairline and into your eyes.

Your voice cracks when you scream; venting the hopelessness, the fear, and the frustration out all at once.

Nero still doesn’t respond.

The only sound you do hear is the rumbling of the engine of the RV as Nico races ever closer until she’s bursting out from behind a hill of rubble. Parking as impeccable as ever, she swerves at the last second, drifting nearly a full circle around you before the RV rocks to a hard stop.

“You look horrible,” she flicks her cigarette away and leans out the window to look around. Before she can even ask, you’re rushing forward, fists pounding the side of the vehicle.

“Help me find him!!! I don’t know what happened!!”

Nero’s always had a certain amount of luck. Ever since you’d met him, you’ve witnessed that dumb luck in action more times than you can fully remember. You’ve never been so thankful for it as now however; seeing him stumbling out from a collection of overturned trees and protruding chunks of building.

Nico’s barely slammed on the brakes before you’re already flinging the door open and hitting the ground at a full-on run. The speed makes you stumble, almost taking your legs right out from under you, but you manage through it, rushing to close the distance between you and him.

The shout of his name seems to catch him off guard, even more so when you run right to him. It’s almost as if it’s taking all of his strength to remain on his feet as he wobbles in place before his legs finally give out.

Luckily, you’re right there to catch him, “Shit...taking that blast head-on has you this bad?” You brace a hand on his chest, letting him drape over your shoulder, feeling the weight of his body slowly growing heavier and heavier before you realize he’s actually losing consciousness. “Nico!!” you call, panic flaring up all over again, “Nico, bring me the first aid kit!”

It takes a while, but you finally patch him up and stop the bleeding after determining there were no injuries that he would have trouble with. You haul him back to the RV--Nico begrudgingly carrying his legs--and let him rest on the sofa that can barely contain his height.

“What the hell kinda freak is able to put _him_ out like that?” Nico wonders aloud as smoke clouds up the dash. You shake your head with a noncommittal hum, only half listening. You chew your thumbnail, your lip, the inside of your cheek; lost in the way that demon was able to do such damage. If only you had been able to stay with him…

Nico shoves at your temple with her fingertips, knocking your head to the side for a moment. “Don’t go doin’ that.”

“What?”

“That look. It ain’t your fault he got hurt. Just let’im sleep it off, then you can yell at’im all you want.”

You offer up a forced smile for her efforts. You know he’ll bounce back; he’ll get up with a sheepish remark, scratching the side of his nose; try and play it off as if it’s no big deal. Usually in the name of calming your nerves, but seeing the way he was hardly able to hold himself up before collapsing… That was one of the scariest things you’ve seen in a long while.

Nero slept the entire way home, and then some. Even as you shake him by the shoulder, it was almost impossible to wake him. His eyes flutter and you briefly see a flash of silver, but his head just lolls to the side immediately after. You try shaking him again, almost as if you’re afraid that he’s more injured than you can tell.

Nico, however, doesn’t seem to care about being subtle, “Wake up, dumbass!” She kicks the side of the couch, jostling the whole RV with the haphazard motion, “I’m hungry and you’re holdin’ us up!”

Her efforts finally yield results as he groans.

“Thank _god_ ,” she calls, going ahead and exiting the RV for what she already knows is coming: the ‘love-dovey-mushy-shit’ she absolutely does not want to be witness to. After closing the door, Nico bangs on the side of the vehicle, shouting at you two to hurry the hell up.

It looks like he’s incredibly annoyed by the sound of Nico’s voice, but when he immediately winces right after, you lean in again.

“Still hurt?” Your eyes move over him carefully, looking for bleeding that even he wouldn’t have been able to stop.

“Head,” he rasps, still laying there with his eyes closed and a hand pressed to his forehead.

“I bet.” You fold your arms over your knees as you squat there, waiting for him to mobilize. “You have a pretty nasty bump there,” you tilt your head for a better look, “but it looks like it’s already healing up. I just feel sorry for whatever poor obstruction got in the way of _your_ head.” Still, it’s a little troubling that he’s having such a reaction to something like that; you’d seen him take far worse injuries and pretty much walk it off. Something else must be wrong.

With some struggling, Nero pushes himself up to sit and immediately slouches forward. His face finds your shoulder and he relishes in pressing his forehead to the side of your neck with a tired sigh.

That was also something to unpack, but for you now, you don’t see anything wrong with comforting him from whatever it is that’s troubling him like this. A hand cradles the back of his head, fingers gently threading through the fluffy spikes as neither one of you moves or says anything for a long while.

You might’ve thought he’d fallen back asleep if it wasn’t for the discontented noises he huffed in intervals into your chest. Your fingers in his hair come to a slow stop, “You...you really scared me this time, Nero…”

He pulls away, looking so legitimately exhausted, you almost feel guilty for disturbing him. “Sorry…” he murmurs.

Well, since he was well enough to respond… “I’m serious… You can’t keep just throwing yourself into everything alone--we’re a team!”

Nero’s brows knit, lips pressing together in that trademark pout, and finally starts moving. You back away to give him the space to stand as he looks around the RV as if he feels like something is off. Before you can say anymore, Nero turns back to you, “Y/N...where are we?”

“Home,” you sigh, “you slept the whole way back--”

“No, I mean...is this an RV?”

“What do you mean..? Of course, it’s--”

“And,” Nero picks at his jacket, pulling at the fabric for a better look, “what am I wearing?”

“Don’t joke around right now. I’m not done fussing at you yet.” He fixes you with a concerned expression--much too real for him to be pranking you right now. “Did...did you actually hit your head _that_ hard?”

“I...guess so?” Nero reaches up, fingers tapping at the lump he feels with a frown. “Wouldn’t have guessed a damn bike could take off like such a bat outta hell...” He gives himself a once over again, “I definitely don’t remember wearing this though…”

“Wh--” you take another step back, “what ‘bike’ are you talking about?”

“Are you sure I’m the one with the memory problem?”

“Humor me.”

“Dante’s bike. We were gonna race, so I borrowed it, but…” He scratches the side of his nose, “I didn’t expect him to actually soup the damn thing up. Thought he was just full of shit all this time.”

Your heart is hammering in your chest so loudly, it’s almost impossible to hear him over the pounding in your ears when he looks around again, asking who’s RV this was. What the _hell_ is he talking about?? Could head injuries really make people believe random occurrences like that?? Not knowing what else to do in the moment, you shout, “Nico!! Nico, get back in here!!”

Neither one of you knows what to make of it as you stand side-by-side in front of Nero on the couch, listening to the inconsistencies in his account of everything leading up to waking up in this ‘strange’ RV. Every so often you and Nico exchange looks or shrugs until he very deliberately asks, “Why the hell are you two looking at me like I’m crazy?”

“Because you are--”

“It’s just…” you give Nico a hard look as you cut her off, “things aren’t exactly making sense…”

“Somethin’ ain’t right,” she blurts, taking a long drag. “Ain’t no way this is just the result’a some bump on the head.” Nico doesn’t even wait for a response as she turns to you, pointing at Nero with her cigarette, “This dumbass has had his arm ripped clean off’n grew another one. You mean to tell me a knock to the skull is gonna mess _him_ up like this?”

You both watch as Nero looks down at his right arm, observing it for a quiet moment before looking back up rather indignantly, “What the hell does ‘grew another one’ mean? Are you an idiot??”

Nico gestures an ‘I told you so’ motion at you.

“What are you suggesting? This isn’t actually _Nero_??”

“Of course I’m me,” he announces as he stands, “who the hell else would I be?”

It sounds ludicrous, even to you, but you can’t help but find some merit in Nico’s hypothesis. If only you’d had time to research that demon… A thought strikes you. “Nero…” you try forming the words that will be least jarring, “you say you got hurt from Dante’s bike, right?” He nods. “There wasn’t a bike. It was the demon you and I were fighting. It created some weird explosion that threw you because you were too close.”

His brows drop, “..a demon.” This time you nod, and he sighs, rubbing his forehead, “Y/N...demons aren’t real. What are you even saying?”

You give Nico a worried look, who immediately makes for the driver’s seat, “Buckle up, asshole, we’re takin’ a field trip.”

It isn’t long before Nico’s stomping on the brakes, narrowly swerving around the demon that had dropped down in the road. Loose items on the countertops shift violently, you slide across the couch, and Nero slams a hand against the dash. “What the hell--watch what you’re doing!”

Ignoring his voice, Nico reaches over and grabs Nero by the jaw; forcing him to look out the windshield as the Empusa raises up its pincers with a shriek.

He jerks back in his seat, “What the hell is that!?”

Nico pointedly looks over her shoulder at you, gaze sharp.

“Nico, get us the hell outta here, wha--” As if on reflex to check on you, Nero too looks back; scrambling out of his seat once he realizes you’re heading out of the door. “Stop! Where are you--”

“This is our job, Nero,” you pull your sword from its resting place--right next to Red Queen. “Stay here. I’ll be quick.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is at this point in the story i expect some "i knew it"'s or "jagga you're stupid"'s lmfao  
> sorry if something like this is too predictable, i'm just a sucker for this kinda thing ._.


	6. Chapter 6

A thump to your forehead wakes you immediately up; jolting upright in your seat and jostling the table in front of you. Nico’s hand jerks out, catching a book from sliding off the edge and plops it back down in front of her. “You ain’t leavin’ the borin’ part to me, Y/N.” She points a finger at you, “Get some coffee if you can’t stay awake.”

“I’m awake…” you mumble pathetically, hunching back over the thick book in front of you. “Why couldn’t your dad have been the kind of mad scientist who wrote manifestos of space-time physics…”

Nico snorts, turning the page of the old worn leather bound journal she was leafing through. “Do you really wanna think about that?”

“If it meant we’d already have answers??”

A loud racket calls both your attention; looking over to see Nero scowling at the books that had fallen out of his arms. The table creaks when he drops the stack that survived the journey on it before going back for the fallen.

Nico grabs one, giving it a skeptical look as she holds it up to read the spine, “Are you even payin’ attention to what you’re grabbin’?”

“I’m pulling books from the area you showed me, so just shut up and let me stack’em.” He seems to have no trouble biting back at every quip she throws at him. It’s made interactions so...normal. So much so that even you catch yourself thinking of him as the ‘real’ Nero from time-to-time.

Nico tosses the book in her hand over her shoulder, leveling her gaze on him as she rolls her cigarette from one corner of her mouth to the other. “So there’s really no demons back home?”

“For the thousandth time, no,” Nero drops a book to the floor and opens another.

“You’re takin’ all this remarkably well.”

Nero shrugs, “I figure this is all just a dream. I hit my head pretty hard, so I’m probably just outta it.” He sits the book on a stack with an already impressive height and looks at another; only looking up at the sound of your voice.

“You really think this is all just a dream?”

“What else am I supposed to think? Demons? Super powers? C’mon.”

You prop your hand up on your fist, “And you haven’t tried waking up by now?”

“Of course I have,” Nero gestures to his head, “But if my body isn’t responding, what else can I do?”

You nod, figuring this must be the only way he can process everything going on--not that you can blame him. There’s no telling what you would do if you woke up in a world totally unfamiliar to you, with everyone else treating you as if you were the sole crazy one.

“Seriously!” Nico pipes up again, waving the book her hand at Nero, “Why would you bring a book about plants!?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know!?” He shouts back, “It’s literally a bunch of stupid squiggles!”

“ _Squiggles_??”

“Fortunian…” you realize aloud as that same realization settles over Nico; who slumps in her seat dramatically.

“So he’s even more useless than usual…”

“Hey, you can gather up the books yourself,” he tosses one at her, watching as it hits another stack and flips them over on the table. They immediately begin bickering at one another as you look at the pages one had fallen open to.

A demonology book with wild scribbling in the margins. You can recognize Agnus’s handwriting, but that doesn’t make the scrawling any easier to decipher. You can make out references to Blitz’s and a peculiar note about the Hell Gates.

Trying not to get your hopes up, you continue flipping through pages, looking for anything else on the gates; thinking that if he was able to create a portal to the demon world, then perhaps one that could switch versions of people wouldn’t be so unfeasible.

With a sigh you sit back in your seat--finding nothing of interest, even on the pages solely dedicated to Hell Gates. There wasn’t even any mention of the demon in question.

Nero ducks with a shout, you look up to see a book whiz over him, and groan as Nico goes for another, “ _Enough_. Neither of you are being helpful…”

For a moment, they look like they’re both contemplating ignoring you, but eventually sit; looking much like siblings just getting reprimanded at the dinner table for purposefully aggravating one another. Nero drags his chair next to yours, leaning in to get a look at the sketchy depiction of what a theoretical Hell Gate would look like.

“This is more or less what I was looking for...but it doesn’t have anything useful like I hoped,” you admit with a sigh, sliding the book closer for him to observe on some miraculous off-chance that he’d have an idea.

For a few tense moments, Nero looks like he’s thinking hard about it. You huff a breath you hadn’t even realized you’d been holding when he slides it back. “So this was all a waste of time, huh?”

“What about Dante?” you ask them, watching Nero lean back in his chair and stretching his arms overhead. “Maybe he’s dealt with this kinda thing before?”

“Maybe we should go bag some more of those demons that were prowling around when we got here. Get the blood pumpin’, then maybe we can come up with something.”

“Are you normally this much of an adrenaline junkie?” You prop your chin up on your knuckles, eying the smirk he gives you, “I swear you’re more gung-ho about demon hunting than I’ve ever seen you.”

“Y’know…” Nico cuts in, but pauses to light her next cigarette. She’s long since become an expert on the timing of yours and Nero’s flirting and knows just when to cut in. “We _do_ have a resident portal expert at our fingertips…”

You close the book in front of you, even if just to give yourself something to do so you had a reason to not immediately answer her. “Let’s just… Let’s just see what Dante has to say first, okay?” You don’t offer any explanation, even as you feel Nero’s confused gaze flitting back and forth between you and Nico. “He’s been around long enough to probably have seen everything. He’s gotta know something.”

The drive to Devil May Cry never took so long before, but thanks to this-Nero’s insatiable drive to hunt down even the smallest demon along the way, it’s almost midnight when the three of you are filing out of the RV and into Dante’s office.

“Why am I not surprised,” Nero scoffs as he strides into the room, kicking papers, and cans, and a wayward pizza box out of his path along the way. “Still a slob no matter where he is.” He doesn’t go into detail about how Dante’s home office usually ends up looking like this when his aunt goes on one of her business trips; the lack of photos of her and his cousin seems to quickly tip him off that Dante doesn’t have a similar lifestyle in this dream world.

You’re still lost on deciding how to best explain what the hell is going on without confusing anyone when a cold, definitely non-Dante-like voice greets the group.

“To what do I owe the pleasure this time.”

Nero does not share your underlying (and hopefully secret) fear; stepping right up to the older with an incredulous laugh, “Dad??”

Vergil takes one look at Nero, and immediately decides he does not like what he’s seeing. He can tell instantly something is off--that is _not_ his actual son--and his grip on Yamato tightens.

In the short time it takes you to speak up, his right hand is already on the hilt, “Vergil, wait!! That’s--he’s--we… We need your help…” You come to Nero’s side, hoping that silently assures your father-in-law that, while yes something is not right, there is no danger for him to eliminate.

Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t vocally answer. Though he’s still in stance to administer a swift end with that katana, you know he’s at least waiting for your explanation since he hasn’t made a move yet.

“Your dumbass son screwed with a weird ass demon and now he’s replaced himself with a copy,” Nico strategically interjects, nuking all the tension, but yet creating a whole host of new problems. You stare at her, wide-eyed, trying to figure just how the hell you’re supposed to translate that crazy statement.

“The demon is capable of cutting portals through dimensions?” Vergil asks, looking right past you and Nero to speak directly to Nico--and like he completely understood what the hell she was saying!

“Guess so,” Nico says with a shrug, “I didn’t get a look at it myself. Just piecin’ together what Tweedle Dee and Dumb was able to tell me.”

“Vergil, I thought you were the only being capable of using portals…”

He looks down at Yamato, clearly in deep thought, but before he can respond, Nero throws his hands up and plops himself down on the couch, “Great. You’re all insane...but wait...shit, I’m the one dreaming this…”

Vergil examines Nero for a long moment, as if contemplating something before ultimately dismissing him altogether. “The Yamato is the key to passing through to the demon world.”

“And...how about ‘other’ worlds?” You try, indicating that going to Hell right now wouldn’t exactly solve any of your problems. Not unless he wanted to hunt that specific demon down.

Wordlessly, he unsheathes Yamato while you and Nico immediately step back to give him the necessary space to draw that long blade across the air as you’ve seen him do many times before. Each time the rift slits open, it is more or less always the same result; on the other side would be an opening to Hell. Granted, they were different locations each time he tried a new portal, but it didn’t take long for you all to realize that these portals were limited to be created within the human and demon worlds.

“Well…” you sigh, not liking it, but it was legitimately the only option you had left, “guess we’re going on a demon hunt.”


	7. Chapter 7

Nero watched you with great caution; standing silently across the room, waiting for you to acknowledge his presence before moving closer. He was worrying you--he could clearly see that--more than once catching the way you staring at him as if he’s insane.

And he could hardly blame you. Who wouldn’t think their partner is insane when they go around answering voices in their heads and spouting off about being trapped in another world.

Your hands slow to a stop when your gaze finally meets his, knife resting against the cutting board, and he attempts a smile to ease the nervousness that’s practically radiating off your body. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he nods, playing up lingering after effects of the head injury. “Anything you need help with?”

“Wanna peel potatoes?” You ask with a motion of your head, gesturing towards the spuds sitting in the sink, waiting to be washed and peeled. Nero nods again and wordlessly situates himself at the sink.

If it hadn’t been for the TV on in the background, the silence would have been head-splitting.

Even though the noise is somehow comforting, you’re still trying your best to tune out the actual words. The news channel had never been a first pick, but it was what was on when you’d turned the TV on and just didn’t bother to change it before beginning to prepare dinner.

“I finished tuning up the bike,” Nero says casually, deftly running the knife in his hand along the shape of the potato without pausing. “Don’t worry, it won’t shoot off and sling you into anything.”

You’re distracted equally by the way he so easily skims off the skin of the vegetable and trying to not listen to the TV--what the hell was so newsworthy about an odd animal found downtown, anyway? It was probably just one that had escaped from a zoo, or an exotic animal someone was illegally keeping as a pet that had wandered outside. “Did you test that bit out yourself?”

“Of course,” Nero finishes a third one even more quickly than the first two, “what kinda asshole would I be to let you be the guinea pig?”

His back is to you, so you don’t bother fixing your expression. “Nero, don’t you want to use the peeler? You could cut yourself…”

He pauses, looking down at his handy work and wondering if this was too abnormal. “No...it’s okay, I’m being careful.”

The silence that would have been hanging between you two is only eased by the constant noise of the TV. You’re looking back down at your hands, deliberately cutting through the meat on the board until you finally can’t contain the words any longer.

With his back to you, it’s impossible to tell his facial expression. It’s also impossible to see that Nero was looking ahead, hand paused mid-motion, eyes wild as he stared at the screen of the TV. In the back of his mind, he could recognize you talking to him, but it was completely overshadowed by the news reporter, trying her best to give her account of what was happening downtown. Words like “monster” and “apocalyptic” were being thrown around as panic and chaos erupted all around her. The camera crew finally shows the source of the pandemonium and both the knife and potato fall out of Nero’s hands.

That fucking demon wails and the feed turns to static.

“What the hell was that!?” You almost can’t believe it, even though you’d just seen it on TV.

Nero whirls around, eyes as wild as the moment he’d woken up in the hospital, “I have to go.”

“What!? Go where??”

“This’ll be hard for you to understand, I get it. But I have to stop that fucker, and set things right.”

You point at the TV that still hadn’t recovered from the lost signal, “ _That_ thing!? The monster-movie-looking-thing!? Are you insane!? What the hell do you plan on--”

Nero pulls you in, practically crushing you to his chest, “Stay here. I’ll be back soon.”

Normally he’d be able to slap together some plan and muscle through it. But, try as he might to trigger them, his powers were still dormant. Being trapped in nearly a fully human form was not going to do him any favors, but who the hell else could do anything about the demon. His father and uncle were normal humans here; devil hunting wasn’t anything but a passing fancy for television shows and, as he was seeing now, normal guns were just not going to cut it. The shooters might as well have been throwing pebbles at the damn thing.

It must be feeling pretty cocky among all these humans that lack any true means to fight it--not even bothering to pause time to evade attempts to hurt it.

“Hey! Asshole!!” It’s sort of amusing, the way the monstrosity twists around to snarl at him--Nero hopes like hell it recognizes him. “Ready to finish what we started!?”

The demon howls, raises its talons high into the air, then swipes down to smash him.

Nero has taken time here and there to test the limits of what this world has done to him. He’s nowhere near as fast or strong as he knows he is, his demonic powers are dormant, and his pain threshold has suffered. Just barely able to dodge away from those claws, he has to wonder if the demon is being affected in the same way--and that throws his hypothesis of this all being a dream or illusion right out the window. If the demon had any control whatsoever, he was more than certain it would’ve left its own powers intact.

If his powers were truly dormant, that meant he had to force himself to awaken them before that bastard could figure it out too. Attacking it was his only bright idea, hoping that the powers would manifest at an opportune moment if he just kept pushing himself.

But, no matter how offensively Nero moved and attacked, the most he could manage was to scramble away in the very next moment to avoid being crushed by the demon’s sheer size alone. If this kept up too long, he was going to be too tired to keep carrying on.

It didn’t help that the constant distractions of the local police kept drawing the demon’s attention and Nero would have to expend even more energy to get it focused back on him again. Unfortunately, since their guns weren’t working, one of them had the brilliant plan to lob a grenade at the demon. All it managed to do was give the demon a perfect opening when Nero lifted an arm to shield his face and miss the crucial moment its claws surged at him.

He didn’t even have time to register being slammed onto the ground; the air knocked immediately from his lungs as the demon leaned in to triumphantly hiss in his face. Nero’s fingers dug in, pulling at the talons to pry them off; muscles straining with the impossibility and jolts of electricity shooting through his arms and legs. He honestly felt like any moment now, he should erupt into his Devil Trigger, and...never did.

The demon presses harder; so hard that the shout was mashed right out of Nero until it was a soundless yell.

He can hear a large commotion drawing in, more desperately trying to push the demon off and worm his way out from under its claws. Even if he still can’t find a way to hurt this thing, he can still keep the civilians back and out of the way.

Engines--he hears the engines of vehicles--those stupid cops are just going to get people killed!

“NERO!!”

He almost doesn’t register the sound of his name over the unmistakable revving of a motorcycle before it’s suddenly hurtling by him in a blur. The motorcycle rams into the demon’s back leg, throwing it off balance, and Nero gasps a large breath as soon as he’s free to do so.

He immediately thereafter pushes himself to sit up, trying to quickly figure out what the hell just happened; eyeing the wreckage that was made of that familiar bike from slamming head-on into the demon. It was completely trashed, but even worse--he couldn’t see you. Before he can even shout, something hooks beneath his arms, fingertips digging into his shoulders as he’s hauled to his feet. Nero turns and is greeted by his own reflection in the glossy finish of your black helmet.

“Are you okay!?” you shout, flipping the visor up to glare at him proper.

“ _Y/N_!? What the hell are you doing here!?”

“Saving your ass!” you bark, wrenching a grip around his wrist and dragging him along with you as you run away from that monster.

“Why did you come here!?”

“We really don’t have time for this right now!!”

Nero lets you lead him away; around an overturned city bus, where he finds a small cluster of people waiting--the friend group all looking worried.

“What the fuck are you all doing here!?”

“We came to help, dumbass!” Nico throws her cigarette to the ground and stomps it out.

“ _Obviously_!” his cousin adds, looking as if she was offended by the question.

Dark-eyed-ponytail-kid comes around the corner, where he’d been on the lookout for the demon to notice where you two were running to, “Are your ribs okay? It was holding you down when we got here.”

“Yeah,” Nero breathed incredulously, running a hand absently over his midsection. It did hurt, but it was nothing compared to plenty of other shit he’s been through.

The shorter friend runs a hand through his already pushed back hair, the green of his eyes dark and serious--the first time Nero’s ever seen him serious since being here. “I’m glad you’re fine, but we should really be figuring out what to do about our new friend out there...”

Nero cuts off the clamoring with a shout, “Just wait a damn minute! What the hell--what are you--why did you all come here!? Are you all stupid!? This is fucking dangerous! It’s not a damn game!”

The group falls silent for a tense moment until your trembling fist is suddenly launching up. Had not Nero’s reaction time been so good, you would have clocked him right on the jaw. He jerks away, unable to even speak before you’re taking two fistfuls of his shirt to yank him back in, “That’s why we’re fucking here!!”

“Do you really think we’d just leave you to do something so dangerous on your own?” the shorter friend crosses his arms over his chest.

“When have we ever let each other do _anything_ alone!?” Nico takes her turn to shout.

“How dare you even try to do something this stupid without us!?” his cousin fumes, jabbing an accusatory finger in his direction.

“You’re the stupid one to think that we wouldn’t come,” pony-tail speaks up; he’s not shouting, but the anger is still there.

“I…” Nero quietly looks between all their angrily worried faces, swallowing down the sudden dryness of his throat. “I just don’t want--”

“And _we_ don’t want you to get hurt, either!” you cut him off, obviously ready for the same line he’s used over and over throughout your lives to justify trying to take on everything on his own. “You don’t have to be everyone’s lonely hero, damnmit!”

A furious roar interupts what could have been a touching moment, and everyone collectively jumps in place.

“We can beat this shit out of Nero for being a dumbass later,” his cousin interjects. “Now what the fuck do we do about a real, live, actual monster!?”

The group goes quiet again. Everyone wanted to help, but no one could come up with anything feasible. And of course, Nero can’t bring up any actual demon hunting techniques and terminology--even if he did, there was no one here that could help him. “Well,” he says instead, “guns and bullets don’t work, I can tell you that much.”

“So we need...like a tank…”

“No offense, Nico, but I don’t think even you can build something like that in only a few minutes…” he lifts a hand to the back of his neck, ponytail shifting with the motion of his hand.

“Don’t tempt me…”

“Whatever we’re gonna do,” the shorter guy pauses as another howl thunders through the air, “we need to figure it out quick.”

“Ramming vehicles into its legs seems to at least stun it…” you mumble, only now taking a moment to lament your sacrificed motorcycle.

“What...are we all supposed to split up and start goin’ through abandoned cars _hoping_ everyone left their keys in the ignition!?” Nico takes a moment to light another cigarette.

“And _then_ what!?” Nero’s cousin capitalizes on Nico’s pause. “We just keep finding cars over and over, hoping that one will finally be enough to, what, make it just _keel_ over?!”

Nero purses his lips into a thin line, thinking hard to himself as he only half-listens to the rest of them argue with each other.

You’ve been silent for a good few minutes, letting your anger subside, and finally take notice that Nero hasn’t been saying anything either. But you do recognize that look on his face. You turn to him, lowering your voice to make the others think you were saying something a little more private. “You got an idea?”

He looks over when your hand touches his arm, “Well...you’re not gonna like it.”

“There’s already nothing to like about any of this.”

Nero nods, voice raised when he speaks again to make it clear he’s talking to everyone, “Let’s do the car thing.”

“You serious??” Green-eyes’s brows lift up in shock, “Nico was bullshitting.”

“I’m not saying that will kill it--but we can at least scare it.”

Pony-tail looks as skeptical as the rest, “S...scare it… You’re hoping it’ll just run away??”

“Look, do you guys wanna get it outta here, or what?”

The group doesn’t seem persuaded, made clear by his cousin pointing out, “Say that does work. Say we get it to run scared… It’s just gonna go somewhere else and cause problems there.”

Nero nods, “Yeah.”

“So...you actually have a plan?” she follows up, genuinely curious.

“Isn’t there an old power plant just outside the city?” green-eyes holds his chin in thought. “You plan on frying it?”

Well...that worked out great in his favor. “Y-Yeah. Yeah, that’s the plan. And we won’t know if it’ll work till we get it scared.”

“My van’s off limits, you heathens,” Nico hisses when both Nero’s cousin and the shorter friend turn to her with mischievous grins.

Pony-tail steps around the three of them to stand in front of you and Nero, “Is...is this really gonna work?”

You nod, “You saw how my bike knocked it off balance--and that was just a motorcycle. Imagine all of us throwing cars and trucks at it.”

“Dumb bastard’ll be running scared in no time,” Nero claps a hand on his shoulder. With one last little rally, the group splits apart to carefully search for vehicles with keys in them, or ones to hot-wire.

Before Nero can run off, you grab his shirt and pull him back in front of you. “What aren’t you telling us?”

Nero blinks, “Huh??”

“I saw your face. You’re hiding something.” You shake your head, “You don’t think this is going to work...do you?”

“It’s not that. It’ll work.”

“But that second half. It’s bullshit. I saw your face--you weren’t even thinking about that old, rundown power plant.”

Nero’s brows rise, “No, I--”

“What is your real idea?”

“Y/N…” Nero’s hands come up to rest on your shoulders, “You just have to trust me, okay? This is gonna work.” He can see you’re not happy with that answer, but you relent with a nod; hand falling away from his shirt. That dejected look on your face makes him want to tell you so badly that he wants to force the demon to awaken its powers to transport again--hoping it’ll take him back where he belongs and that it’ll set everything right again. But he keeps his mouth shut, save to tell you, “Be careful.”

“You too,” you say with a nod, squeezing his hand, and then running off.

He has to wonder what kind of fucked up scenarios this group must regularly get up to if they’re all so willing to help him do something this insane before doing the same.

By the time Nero’s realizing this might not be enough to scare it--it’s just getting angrier and angrier to be honest--they’re running low on cars that were abandoned in the streets in favor of quick escapes. The demon roars in apparent frustration, even swiping at an oncoming car that was aimed for its legs, though luckily pony-tail-kid had already thrown himself out of the speeding vehicle when it got batted away. And it was beginning to look like repeatedly jumping out of moving cars was starting to take its toll on everyone.

His cousin was bleeding from her knees and elbows and limping by the time she tapped out. Green-eyes had to take a short reprieve to rest after nearly snapping his spine. Pony-tail was currently dragging Nico away to stash her somewhere safe; not that he looked much better.

Nero’s gaze surveyed the street, looking toward the sound of yet another loud engine revving to life. Behind the wheel, you fiddled with the gear shift, trying to move the damn thing into drive, but it was repeatedly grinding. Cursing quietly that you perhaps did something wrong when hot-wiring it, you’re startled when Nero’s suddenly shouting your name. When you look up, he’s still shouting, and running toward you. Only able to catch the tail end of his words, you realize too late he’s telling you to abandon the car--the demon’s already leaping through the air and aiming to land on top of it; obviously hoping to put an end to the vechicular onslaught.

The metallic crunch under the demon’s massive foot is sickening and Nero pushes himself to go faster, scream louder, everything he can manage to get to you and pull you from the destroyed remains; the fact that it was too late never crosses his mind. He outstretches his hand, as if that’d get him closer faster; everything’s hot and roaring and--

A glowing, blue hand shoots out passed his own fingers, grabs the demon by the leg and whips it away. Nero pulls himself to the car and immediately begins prying the smashed metal apart to find you, panicking more and more each second; refusing to even acknowledge the flatness of the vehicle. He shouts again. No words; just pure frustration as two ethereal wings erupt from his shoulder blades to aid him in ripping it apart.

“Nero--”

He pauses, looking over to see you trying to pick yourself off the ground. Your right leg is bleeding profusely and you can’t put any pressure on it whatsoever, but it doesn’t matter when Nero is suddenly right there and pulling you up; arms around you in a matter of seconds as he lifts you off the ground and squeezes you to his chest.

“I-I’m fine,” you wheeze, pushing on his arm and trying not to acknowledge your leg.

“Thank god,” he sighs, moving to release you, but immediately pulls you in again when you nearly hit the ground as soon as you’re standing on your own.

“Shit…” you grimace, looking down at all the blood, “I...I think it’s broken…”

“Sorry I couldn’t get to you faster…”

“Nero…” The look on his face tells you that he already seems to know what you’re about to say. “What...what was that? That blue light…” The adrenaline is doing wonders for you right now.

“It’s...a long story. Can this wait?”

“Guess we don’t have much of a choice…” you say, looking past his face when the monster roars bitterly and rights itself on his legs.

Nero, glad to be off the hook for now, carefully lowers you back to the ground. “Stay here and call one of the others to help you...I have to take care of this.”

“Finish it,” you nod, quietly taking in all the strange things he’s been saying up till now to distract yourself from your throbbing leg. It’s all seeming to make even the slightest bit of sense; especially when those wings burst to life again, flexing out at his sides as if stretching out stiffness. His back is to you, but you can clearly see Nero roll his shoulders, jerk his jaw left and right, and the air around him shifting as his body erupts into a blinding light. When you’re able to see again, a long-haired, long-legged scaly being is standing there instead. Your jaw drops, but no sounds make it out.

Nero shakes his hands out, bends at the knees and then takes off in an incredible explosion of energy. He launches himself at the demon; seamlessly falling to a pattern of keeping it on the defensive and aggravating it to the point of mindlessly taking sporadic swipes at him.

You remember how crazed and wild he’d been when waking up in the hospital bed. “ _Did the demon get away!?_ ” he’d frantically asked. Seeing the way Nero just seemed to immediately know how to attack and corner this monster made you realize that wasn’t any head injury. He somehow had woken up with those powers and this intricate knowledge; all this time struggling with it to keep you, and everyone else, from finding out. Somewhere amid the inward musings, your friends had gathered around you; not noticing until you were being helped to your feet.

“Snap outta it!” Nico waves her hand in your face, “We gotta stay outta sight before that thing decides we’re snacks!”

“Can you walk?” Nero’s cousin doesn’t even bother waiting for a real response, deciding how bad your leg looks is answer enough.

Your mind is still spinning, unable to tear your eyes away from Nero’s battle, and not even realizing you’re being hauled up on someone’s back and toted off till you’re forced to look away. “We can’t leave him!”

“We’re not,” a hand rests on your back assuringly. “But Nero would never forgive us if any one of us got killed.”

A violent shriek pierces the air. The demon’s head is thrown back; glossy, near-black liquid oozing from its body as light begins faintly emanating from it. Electricity seems to crackle around it, and there’s a sudden gust of wind whipping through the street.

In the middle of it all, Nero stands tall and not looking the slightest bit fazed. “That’s right, you big son of a bitch,” he growls at it, “Take us home.” It’s nothing new to him as the swirling energy shifts directions towards itself as the demon gathers its energy. This time, however, now waiting in his Devil Trigger form, Nero’s more than confident enough to get the timing perfect as he waits it out.

There is about a mere half of a second when everything freezes. The world seems to come to a complete stop for that split instant, and Nero moves in. As the light erupts in a blinding, showy flash, Nero’s claws rip into the demon’s body. It howls miserably, tumbling backward through a pulsing wave of energy that sits suspended in the air--as if there is a painting that has been gashed. The demon’s upper half is passed through it, disappearing from yours and your friends’ sights, while its lower half lays twitching in plain sight.

“Nero!!” Everyone can hear your voice, seemingly coming from inside that surging energy. “You’re okay--I’ve got you!!”

Nero’s crouching there from his perch on the demon’s side, staring through to where you all can’t see. His eyes are wide as he slowly rises to his full height--eyes refusing to leave yours.

The you he _knows_.

You don’t move, your legs weren’t working even if you weren’t cradling Nero to your chest; pressing a torn piece of your shirt to the side of his head to stop the bleeding. Your eyes are locked onto the familiar sight of his Devil Trigger, staring wide-eyed from the otherside of that portal.

“I’m fine,” the Nero in your arms insists, pushing away to stand up and only realizing what you were staring at when he’s back on his feet.

“Interesting…” Vergil moves forward, ignoring the weak twitching of the demon to inspect the portal unstably hovering. “Do what you must quickly,” he speaks to his actual son as he sheaths the Yamato, “this will close with the demon’s momentary death.”

Nero’s trigger melts away from his body in another flash of light, turning back when there’s an uncertain call of his name. From his perch on the demon, he has to look down on you and the friends he’s come to know. Your arms are thrown around Nico’s and pony-tail’s shoulders as they hold you up on either side and everyone stares up at him.

You don’t know what to say, in all honesty. There are so many things you _want_ to say, but you have no idea what to say. “Thank you, Nero,” you manage, trying your best to keep the pain out of your voice.

“I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused…”

“Nero,” Vergil’s disembodied voice interrupts, “the portal.”

“I know,” he grumbles, looking back at the small group, “Take care of each other.” When he turns back to the portal, he can see himself climbing up on the other side of the demon. They face each other for a moment before simultaneously stepping forward. As if walking into a mirror, they pass through one another, once more facing the other but now on their correct sides. “Take care of Y/N,” he says to his all-human-self.

“Yeah, same to you. Or else I’ll be back.”

He wishes he could’ve helped get you to the hospital for that injured leg, but Nero knows you’re in good hands as he uses his wings to drag the demon completely through the rift; Vergil at the ready to end it’s draining life. And, just as he had predicted, the portal disappeared from sight, sealing the pathway up without a trace.

“Couldn’t help but trade me in for a newer model, huh?” Nero jests as he approaches, just before noticing that your right leg is bleeding. But unlike the you from the other side of that portal, you were standing on your own. It distracts him enough to almost not dodge the swing of your fist in time. “What the hell--”

Both your fists grip his jacket and yank him towards you to correct the step back he’d taken, “You _idiot_ \--all because you have to do everything on your own--” It’s his turn to interrupt you; surging forward and holding the sides of your face in his hands as he pulls you in for a sudden kiss. While you are tempted to shove him away and continue fussing at him, all the tension and fear bleeds out of you; overwhelming you with the paralyzing relief of him being back, safe in your arms.

An astoundingly polite cough reminds you both that you’re not alone as you take a moment to turn from making out with his son in front him, and boldly approach Vergil. “Thank you,” you say, putting your hand out in the space between you two. “For helping me.”

For a long moment, it looks as if Vergil is going to ignore you, but he finally reaches out and takes your hand in a firm shake. His gaze then shifts over to his son, gives him a once over, and then deems everything right with the world before turning and walking away.

“We can give you a lift back to Devil May Cry,” Nero calls after his father, ultimately unsurprised when the older simply waves over his shoulder and continues on. “Y/N..?” He waits till you turn to look back at him to continue. “I’m… I’m sorry. For worrying you, for not listening.”

You nod, “I’m just glad you’re back. Safe.” Out in the openness of these ruins isn’t exactly the best place to let your guard down, so you resist pulling him back in; instead opting for grabbing hold of his wrist and leading him back towards your motorcycle.

“Also--” Nero plants his feet, giving you no choice but to stop too; turning his hand in your grip so his fingers can easily close around your wrist as well. “Thank you,” he murmurs with such gravity, it almost feels like a confession, “for always being there for me… Even when I try to make you stay back…”

Your hand tightens around his, giving in one more time and pulling him close once more. “You can tell me all about when we’re home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for sticking with me (; ω ;)ゞ
> 
> the 'friend group' is based off friends' (and one of my) OCs


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